Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

“Stop callin’ me that, nigga.”

“Yo, c’mon, you killin’ da mood.” He cups his balls. “You know I’ma keep callin’ you the shit, so chill.”

“Whateva, muhfucka.”

“C’mon, stop fuckin’ ’round, Kat…yank on these muhfuckas and let me feel ya mouth heat up on this dick, baby.”

Let me stop fuckin’ wit’ this nigga, I think, grinnin’. I slowly stroke the lower part of his shaft. “Yeah, just like that. Oh, fuck…keep doin’ that shit, baby.”

“Mmm,” I moan, lookin’ up at him, speed jackin’ his dick while suckin’ and lickin’ his balls.

“Aaaah, fuck…”

“I want that nut, muhfucka. You gonna give me that nut?”

“Yeah, baby…Daddy ’bout to let you get that nut. What you gonna do wit’ it?”

Daddy? This muhfucka is so ova himself. I let the shit go, keep milkin’ the nigga’s dick. “I’m gonna use it as a face moisturizer… it’s good for da skin.”

He chuckles. “Damn, baby…oh, shit…you nasty, you know that, right?”

I nod my head, spittin’ on his dick. “Yeah, muhfucka, you like it when a bitch gives it to you nasty.” I flick the head of it wit’ my tongue, then plant soft kisses all over it. I slather it wit’ my spit. Suck the shit real nasty like. Get that thick, juicy cock nice and wet and shiny.

“You gonna haveta work for that load, baby,” he tells me, holdin’ the back of my head.

I slowly slurp ’im, then pick up the pace, decidin’ to stop fuckin’ ’round and show this muhfucka how’a real bitch handles a big-ass dick. I swallow his dick down one inch at’a time, slowly ease ’im down into my throat. When the head hits the back’a my throat, I stop, take a deep breath, ease up on the dick a bit, then gulp and push my face up against the base of his dick.

“Ohhhh, shiiiiit, baby…aaaah…that’s wassup…you ’bout to make me spit…”

I pull his dick from outta my throat, then spit on it and start jackin’ him off. “Give me that milk, muhfucka.”

I start deep throating him again. Take him deep into my neck for ten minutes, nonstop. A bitch’s in neck ’n gulp mode, tryna spin this nigga’s top to the roof. I glance up every so often, watchin’ him fluctuate from moanin’ and pantin’ to tossin’ his head back and groanin’ to bitin’ down on his bottom lip to peerin’ down at me amazed at how his whole dick disappears down in my throat.

He reaches ’round wit’ his free hand and starts playin’ wit’ my pussy ’til it starts to drip down his hand. I slurp and moan and wiggle my fluffy ass to match the thrust of his fingas movin’ in and outta my fat, tight pussy. He palms the back of my head like a basketball and bounces it up and down on his dick. I suck the shit harder. I guess the nigga thought a bitch was gonna start gaggin’. Not. My eyes start to bulge and get watery, but I keep the pace, speed slurpin’ the dick nonstop. I’m that bitch, muhfucka; thought you knew, I think, squeezin’ ’n yankin’ his balls.

“Oh, yes…aaaah, fuck…ohmigod…ohmigod…aaah, shit…you ’bout to make me spit, baby.…here it comes… uhhhh…aaaaaah… aaaaah…fuuuuuuuuuk…”

Forty minutes later, I’m at the bathroom sink brushin’ my teeth while Alex takes a shower. I peep ’im through the glass shower doors.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in?” he asks, turnin’ to give me a full view of his soapy body. Soap suds cova his dick and balls.

I laugh, sittin’ up on the sink counter. “Nigga, ya greedy ass ain’t gettin’ no more of this pussy.” He starts strokin’ his dick. “And you ain’t gonna be standin’ there wastin’ my water playin’ wit’ ya dick, eitha.”

He laughs wit’ me. “Yo, why you always tryna put a muhfucka out?”

“’Cause I don’t want ya ass gettin’ all comfortable ’n shit.”

He opens the glass door, then steps out. Beads of water roll down his chest. The mouth of my pussy opens ’n closes. Bitch, you know you wanna ’notha round of that cock. I watch ’im as he dries off, then wraps the towel ’round his body.

“Too late. I already am.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

He walks up on me, leans in and kisses me on the lips. “Yo, I want you to spend da weekend wit’ me down at my crib.”

I grin. “I ain’t stayin’ no whole weekend wit’ you so you can try runnin’ ya dick up in me da whole time. I don’t think so. I’ll stay da night.”

“Nah, I want you”—he kisses me again—“to myself da whole”—more kisses—“weekend.” He slips his tongue in my mouth. Ho, get this nigga up outta here ’fore you end up fuckin’ ’im again.

“I’ll think ’bout it,” I tell ’im, jumpin’ off’a the counter, then poppin’ my hips back into the bedroom. He follows behind me, grabbin’ at my ass. “Nigga, will you stop.”

“Daaaaamn, you gotta bangin’-booty. All fat ’n juicy and what-not; I want sum’a that.”

I snap my neck ova at ’im. “Nigga, puhleeze. You jokin’, right?”

“Nah, I’m dead-ass. I been meanin’ to ask you when you gonna let me hit that.”

I walk into my walk-in, then open up my trunk. “So, let me get this straight. A muhfucka who ain’t my man and ain’t put no ring on it thinks a bitch should let ’im run his dick all up in ’er ass, right?”

“Baby, I’m tryna be ya man, but you keep frontin’.”

I keep searchin’ for what I’m lookin’ for. “Yeah, well, I want da ring muhfucka.”

He laughs. “How ’bout you let me test run it, first. Then we can talk ’bout it.”

When I find what I need, I walk back out into the bedroom. “Well, I tell you what. Since you ain’t tryna put no ring on it, how ’bout you let a bitch run this”—I swing a twelve-inch dildo at ’im—“up in you, then you tell me if you still wanna hit this ass.”

He laughs. “Hahahaha; you got jokes, right?”

I smirk. “Nah, nigga. I’m dead-ass. Let me fuck ya asshole out da frame wit’ my lil’ friend, then we can talk ’bout you gettin’ up in this juicy ass.”

He shakes his head, slippin’ on his underwear. “Whatever, yo. You can cancel that shit. It ain’t happenin’.”

I shrug, tossin’ the dildo onto the bed. “Oh well, then I guess you don’t get none’a this.”

He slips on his jeans. “Yeah, aiight. I need to leave a change of clothes here.”

I tilt my head and look at his ass like he’s crazy. “Oh no da hell you don’t. You ain’t leavin’ shit up in here. When you go, e’erything else goes, includin’ that toothbrush I gave you.”

I walk outta the room and head downstairs. He follows me.

“Yo, you real extra; you know that, right?”

“I know it’s time for you to go. I got things to do.”

“Like what?”

I shoot ’im a look ova my shoulder, suckin’ my teeth. “Nigga, like none’a damn business.” I watch ’im pull out his phone, then turn it on. I decide to ask ’im why e’erytime he’s wit’ me he turns the shit off. He tells me e’erything shuts down when he’s wit’ me ’cause he ain’t tryna have a buncha distractions. That there’s no one else he needs to talk to. “Hmmmm,” is the only thing I say.

“What, you think I’m bullshittin’?”

I eye ’im, puttin’ a hand on my hip. “I think it’s time for you to be gone.”

He walks up on me. “Yo, check this shit out. You da the first chick I ever turned my phone off for. I don’t even check da shit when I’m wit’ you. No other broad ever got that. So all that ‘hmmm’-in’ you doin’, save it.” He eyes me. “Stop tryna look for shit. I’m keepin’ e’erything on board wit’ you.”

“Nigga, I ain’t lookin’ for shit. Whateva you do is what you do.”

He leans down and kisses me. The muhfucka’s lips are soft ’n juicy. “Yo, I’ma call you later, aiight.”

“If you want,” I say nonchalantly, walkin’ ova to the door.

“Yo, Kat, real shit…stop fuckin’ frontin’ on a muhfucka. You know you feelin’ me, so let’s see if we can make this shit pop.”

“You right. But know this. I’m not da kinda bitch who lives wit’ regrets, so, do not have me regret fuckin’ wit’ you.”

He grins. “Yeaah, baaaaby; that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”